


Safe Return

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Cock Warming, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Kink Discovery, Kink Exploration, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Purring Keith (Voltron), Reunion Sex, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, Sleepy Sex, Top Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: Keith’s favorite part of any Blades mission is coming home to his husband. Today when he comes home, all he wants to do is be closer to Shiro. He can never be close enough.Or: Keith discovers something new.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 114
Kudos: 427





	Safe Return

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PeaceLilies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeaceLilies/gifts).



> Fic request for [Sarah](https://twitter.com/PeaceLilies) , who asked for married sheith + cockwarming! This has been a WIP I've wanted to write for a while, so I'm grateful for the chance/excuse to write it out hehe. 
> 
> Thank you to my incredible beta [Meg](https://twitter.com/kedawen) for reading this over for me! ♥

Keith’s favorite part of any Blades mission is coming home. 

These days, it’s rare for Keith to be gone for long missions. But if Keith is honest, sometimes even a few quintants can feel like too much time away from his husband. They’ve spent so many decaphoebs separated from one another and there have been so many times when Keith has nearly lost Shiro, when he _has_ lost Shiro. They’re both doing good, important work, necessary work, but it doesn’t mean Keith’s heart doesn’t long to be with Shiro again every time he leaves. 

It’s not the separation that scares Keith— it’s the fear of what could happen when they aren’t by each other’s sides. It’s why nothing beats the feeling of relief when he lands his flyer in the Atlas hangar, already scanning for Shiro. The expectation of seeing Shiro beats out the exhaustion he feels whenever he finishes a mission— expansive and anchoring in his chest. Today, he disembarks his ship and his eyes find Shiro easily— already there waiting for him, safe and sound, not a hair out of place. 

He’s so handsome. Keith feels his heart twist up, relief and joy at seeing him. Shiro always grins when he sees Keith again, like he can’t think of any better sight. Even after decaphoebs of marriage, Shiro still looks at Keith like it’s the first day of their infinity together, like Keith is all the stars at once. 

Keith hurries down his flyer’s ramp, although he knows he hardly looks frantic. He’s gotten far more graceful when coming back into Shiro’s orbit— he doesn’t trip over his own feet anymore, feels less like a wayward comet. He slides smoothly back into the place he belongs now, aware and comfortable in his welcome. 

“Well, look who it is,” Shiro says, because it’s easier for him to tease rather than say, _I’ve missed you, Keith, every moment—_

Keith knows that’s how Shiro feels. He can see it in the way he looks at Keith, his eyes soft and starry, his smile a gentle curve still so lopsided and boyish on his handsome face. Keith will never get tired of the way Shiro looks at him— like there’s nothing more precious in the full span of the universe. 

Keith rolls his eyes to hide the quirk of his smile, but he knows Shiro sees it anyway. Shiro opens his arms to Keith, reaching for him as Keith falls easily back into his space, the two of them here together. If Keith presses up close enough, it’s almost like they’re one. 

Shiro smiles wider once Keith’s there, his hands coming up to cradle Keith’s jaw as he leans down to kiss him in greeting. It’s a gentle kiss, the kind that feels so tender that the first time Shiro ever kissed him like this— their first kiss, really— Keith nearly wept because of it. Shiro’s fingers slide into Keith’s hair, knocking his messy braid looser. He angles Keith to kiss him slow and worshipful. 

It’s Keith who turns it dirty, flicking his tongue across his husband’s bottom lip before growling low in his throat— he knows how much Shiro loves the Galra in him— and tugging Shiro down closer by a fist in the front of his uniform. Shiro opens to him, as he always does, and Keith growls again, slinging his arm around the back of Shiro’s neck and anchoring him there. 

“Hi,” Keith says when they draw back to breathe, smiling up at Shiro now. He plays with the little bits of hair at the back of Shiro’s neck. He’s cleaned up in his undercut in the time Keith’s been gone and the pleasant buzzy feeling against his fingertips feels good. Keith nearly purrs. 

“Hey, baby.” 

Shiro looks so pretty when he’s slightly mussed from a kiss. Keith likes that _he’s_ always the reason for it, that Shiro doesn’t even try to hide his delight. He still has one hand on Keith’s jaw, his thumb swiping one little arc across his cheekbone. 

“Welcome home,” Shiro says, the very words themselves enthused with relief. Shiro might not say it, but Keith knows how much he worries— he knows how poorly Shiro sleeps alone now and how often he hovers by his PADD, waiting for a call to confirm his worst fears. 

Keith melts into Shiro’s arms, the tension of the mission and journey sinking out of him. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like a mission is truly done until he’s back on the Atlas with Shiro. Keith presses his face down against Shiro’s chest and inhales, the wash of his husband’s scent comforting and encompassing. He feels Shiro curl around him, dropping his face down to bury in Keith’s hair, nosing absently as his chest swells with his own deep breath. 

Keith feels bone-tired and relaxed, made so just by the safety of his husband’s arms around him. Shiro knows how to calm him down, in the end. It’s as easy as him simply being here, smiling at him and breathing him in. 

Shiro’s chest rumbles with a soft voice. “Are you hungry? Do you want—” 

Keith interrupts Shiro’s questions by lifting onto the tips of his toes, catching Shiro’s mouth in a searing kiss. He growls again and he feels the chuff of Shiro’s breathless laugh in response, opening to Keith’s attentions. 

“Oh,” Shiro laughs, voice whisper-thin and husked out. “I get it.” 

“Mm,” Keith hums a low purr, arms still wrapped snugly around Shiro’s neck, leaning heavily against him. 

Shiro laughs again, softer and deeper. It reverberates in his chest and leaves Keith shivering. “Want me to carry you?” 

Keith loves it when Shiro carries him and otherwise picks him up, but truthfully they’ll get back to their room quicker if they’re both on their feet. Keith debates between the decadent laziness of being in Shiro’s arms versus getting Shiro naked faster. Naked Shiro wins out in the end as Keith steps back with a shake of his head and takes Shiro’s hand. 

“Come on,” Keith says with a small smile. “I’m not a complete invalid.” 

Shiro squeezes his hand as they walk, chatting absently about what’s happened while Keith’s been gone. Keith’s only half-listening, pleased only to hear the gentle lull of Shiro’s voice. He knows most of these updates already, considering the two of them video-called each night Keith was gone. Keith doesn’t mind hearing about whatever their friends are up to or what the ship rotation brought in the rumor mill, but it’s mostly just because he likes listening to Shiro laugh or scoff or carry on about petty things neither of them actually care about. 

As soon as the door to their room snicks shut behind them, shrouding their room in the dim lighting of the evening-cycle, Keith goes to Shiro again, tugging him down and kissing him with purpose. Shiro makes a pleased sound against his lips, his hands cupping Keith’s hips to back him up against the wall. 

Keith gives the softest trill of delight at the movement. He likes the feeling of it, really— every inch of his body surrounded by Shiro, Shiro so close to him, Shiro all around him. There’s never a moment when Keith doesn’t crave having Shiro near. He can’t be close enough. 

“Take me to the bed,” Keith says. 

“You’re not too tired?” 

Keith rolls his eyes again, biting down on Shiro’s bottom lip and tugging pointedly. He likes the feeling of Shiro’s breath against his mouth, loves swallowing his delighted laugh. Shiro does pick him up this time, scooping Keith easily and turning, bringing him towards their bed. 

They fall onto it easily, Shiro taking Keith’s weight as Keith shifts, straddling Shiro’s lap. For all Keith’s eagerness, when they kiss, there’s something slow and unhurried about it. Keith feels that same bone-deep tenderness within him, the relaxation and peace that comes only with the end of a mission and being back in his husband’s arms.

It’s Keith who goes dirty with it again, humming out sweetly as he bites at Shiro’s mouth. It’s the familiarity born from knowing Shiro for so long, the ease with which they move together. Keith’s at once in no hurry and feels hurried to be closer to Shiro. It nestles in the back of his mind, curling and poignant— closer, always closer. 

He lets Shiro untangle the robe of his Blade uniform, his hands moving in slow, soothing strokes up and down Keith’s back, tracing over his spine. Checking for injuries, too, most likely, because he’s hardly subtle. Keith’s fine, and confirmed as much on their last video-call, but he knows Shiro worries. Between the two of them, it’s not _Keith_ who tends to hide his injuries, though. 

“Shiro,” Keith grumbles, undoing his belt for him before leaning in to nuzzle at his neck. 

Shiro chuckles. The sound tapers off into a pleased hum as Keith keeps biting his throat. Shiro’s chin lifts as he tilts his head to Keith’s attentions, letting him trail teeth and tongue and lips down the column of his neck, marking him the way Keith likes.

It’s easy, simple, the way they move together. Keith knows Shiro would prefer to take his time, but it’s been too long. Keith moves with purpose now, tugging off his uniform and tossing it away without care for where it lands. He guides Shiro’s hand, the way he knows Shiro likes— he loves taking direction, especially when Keith demands it— and lets Shiro ply him open until his body is singing with need.

He takes Shiro out of his uniform pants, hardly waiting long enough for Shiro to start undressing, and sinks down onto him with ease. It’s been a while since he was able to take Shiro at all and his body responds like it’s the first time, everything inside him thrumming like a plucked string. He arches, his breath coming out short but quiet, and when he opens his eyes, Shiro is smiling up at him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro says with a sigh. He’s always been overly sentimental during sex.

It makes Keith melt. He makes a sound, pushing the hair from Shiro’s face as he settles down in Shiro’s lap, taking the full length of his cock inside him. Naked and trembling in Shiro’s lap, Keith feels the build of desire in his gut. Shiro’s hands sweep down his back again, tracing along the curve of his body. He squeezes Keith’s hips and slides his hands back, cupping his ass to pull him open and drag him in closer. 

It puts Keith’s cock up against the thick fabric of Shiro’s uniform, only halfway open. The friction sings against Keith’s cock as they drag together and Keith bites his lip to swallow back the pleased whimper. He squirms in Shiro’s lap, pressing closer against his stomach. 

“So eager,” Shiro says, nuzzling at his jaw. He kisses his ear. “I missed you so much.” 

“Well, I’m here now,” Keith says. He tugs on Shiro’s pants, shimmying them down his thighs without lifting off Shiro’s lap enough to take the cock out from inside him even by an inch. “Come on. Off.” 

“You have such faith in my flexibility, baby,” Shiro says with a sigh.

Keith laughs. “I’ve seen you do the splits plenty of times. Come on.” 

He tugs again. Shiro chuckles, leaning back to balance against their headboard. He puts one hand at the small of Keith’s back, keeping him pressed there as he lifts his thighs up, squirming out of his uniform trousers without disrupting Keith sitting on his cock. 

Keith nuzzles at Shiro’s shoulder as he slips his coat off next, slowly undressing his husband until he’s naked beneath him, too. It takes some maneuvering, jostling that makes Keith grumble in protest. He holds tight to Shiro, refusing to budge. 

“You’re cuddly,” Shiro says fondly.

“Are you complaining?” 

“Never.” Shiro’s eyes are shining, his smile moony and boyish. Keith loves it when he looks like this— like he can barely contain his joy and so it must shine out of him smile-first. It took a long time for Keith to be able to look at such an expression without wanting to cry or wanting to shy away from the revelation that _he_ is the reason Shiro might look this way. 

It feels nice, in the end, to be so weightless in Shiro’s arms. Usually when they go for this position, Shiro’s content to let Keith set the pace and take the lead. Sometimes, with goading, he’ll take Keith by the hips and fuck him through the movements, putting Keith right where he wants him. 

Tonight, neither of them moves. Now that Keith’s initial eagerness to get Shiro inside him has faded, the same exhaustion from before sinks in. It’s not a matter of laziness or disinterest, but there’s something pleasant about holding Shiro inside himself and— simply holding him. 

“This feels nice,” Keith sighs. 

Shiro hums, hands lifting to unravel the last of Keith’s braid so his hair hangs loose and wavy across his shoulders. He has the slightest tremble to his hips, like he wants to rock up into Keith but restrains himself, waiting for Keith’s permission to do so first. 

Keith breathes out, his sigh coming out soft as a purr as Shiro finger-combs through his hair, his fingers massaging slow circles across his scalp. It’s a luxurious feeling, decadent in the way being pampered always makes him feel. He shivers quietly, squirming in Shiro’s lap. 

The movement makes Shiro suck in a slow breath, his cheeks flushed. He leans forward, kissing Keith sloppily now, his fingers curled up tight in his hair. 

Keith kisses him back, a low purr kicking up in his chest. The louder it gets, the more he knows his eyes will start to slit— usually that’s enough to drive Shiro wild. Sometimes, it just leaves him wondering, staring into Keith’s eyes with a besotted expression. 

Keith lets the purr grow and doesn’t move to thrust down against Shiro. Instead he swivels his hips, shifting and squirming in his lap as he settles. He’s infinitely aware of where they’re joined, the way his body opens to Shiro, the way he holds Shiro inside him. He squeezes around Shiro’s cock and this time, it makes him jerk his hips up, inching deeper inside Keith. 

Keith moans into the kiss, biting down hard on Shiro’s bottom lip. “Fuck,” he breathes in the small space between their lips. “Fuck, Shiro.” 

“Yeah, baby,” Shiro whispers back, nose brushing Keith’s, his free hand petting down his spine. 

His hand is so big, so heavy against Keith’s warm skin. When his hand settles at the swell of his ass, like he wants to drag his fingers down and feel at the place his cock presses inside Keith’s hole, it makes Keith nearly shudder.

“Sweetheart,” Shiro says. “You’re not moving. Are you too tired?” 

Keith shakes his head, pressing kiss after kiss against the corner of Shiro’s mouth and working his way up his jaw. “I just—” 

He pauses, unsure how to say it. He’s not sure how to express the way his thoughts and feelings swirl inside him, threatening to overflow. It feels like this so often when he comes home from a long mission. There’s nothing particular about this mission this time, or anything particular about the way Shiro looks at him, that makes him _want_ like this. Maybe it’s just a desire he needs to slowly unearth. 

“Just?” Shiro prompts.

“Want to feel you,” Keith murmurs, dropping his head down to press his forehead to Shiro’s. He shivers at the feeling of Shiro all around him, his body tuned in towards his. “Just want you close.” 

“I’m here,” Shiro says and it sounds like a vow. Keith’s never known anyone more devotional. “Whatever you want, Keith.” 

Shiro is too good to him. Keith feels the twist of love in his heart, the way he always feels like he’s blooming when Shiro touches him. Keith spent far too much of his life thinking he would only ever be quiet and angry, but Shiro constantly reminds him that he’s only ever been loving, that he is capable of so much more. When Shiro looks at him, he only sees what makes Keith amazing. Someday, Keith hopes it will feel just as natural for him to simply be that.

He kisses Shiro, sighing and melting against him. He trusts Shiro to hold him up, and he does, his hands gentle on his skin, fingertips tracing the lines of old, faded scars. 

The kiss is the kind of kiss usually born from a long night of sleeping in, the morning finding them sleep-warm and uneven in their movements. The bump of their mouths together, the slide of their breath. There’s something slower in this now, leisurely and serene. Shiro touches Keith’s back with one hand, the other rubbing a slow circle behind his ear with his thumb. 

Keith can feel the pulse of Shiro’s cock inside him, the way it twitches every time Keith shifts just a little, his hips trembling. He can tell how much Shiro wants to move, and there’s something unspoken between them— waiting for Keith’s word. Touching him, worshipping him, but always as Keith wants it. Shiro knows a thing or two about patience and it shines here, too. 

Keith breaks the kiss to slump fully against Shiro, sighing out. They’re pressed chest to chest, Keith’s cock sandwiched between them. It gives a little twitch, hardening again at the friction between them, but Keith resists the urge to rut against Shiro’s firm stomach. 

Keith can feel the kiss of metal from Shiro’s ring where his fingers rest at the back of his neck, thumb still circling pleasantly over his scalp. 

“So you just want to stay like this?” Shiro murmurs. 

Keith whimpers at the thought of it, a pulse of desire stabbing through him. When Shiro puts it like that, he realizes the extent of its truth— how much he wants to just encompass Shiro like this, to feel the way they’re joined. He wants to be closer to Shiro. This hardly feels close enough. 

He squirms in Shiro’s lap, almost delighting in the sharp intake of Shiro’s breath. He jerks up a little— he can’t help it— and it makes Keith purr louder. 

“Yeah,” he says, his voice thick with relaxation. “That’s what I want.” 

“Okay, baby,” Shiro says and his acceptance is so easy. This is hardly the strangest thing either of them have asked of the other while in bed, but it still makes Keith feel like he’s glowing. 

Even if Shiro stays obediently still beneath Keith, he still touches him. He strokes his fingers through Keith’s hair, dragging from the top of his head all the way down to the curly ends of it. He runs his fingertips up over Keith’s spine and along his ribs, touching his sides and his hips. He strokes over Keith’s thighs, feeling the tremble of them beneath his palms. 

Keith touches him, too. It’s an idle touch, his fingertips touching the buzzy undercut of his husband’s hair, tracing along the shell of his ears and down his jaw. He touches Shiro’s smiling mouth and tries not to feel embarrassed for what it is he wants. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro says against the fingertips at his lips. His breath is soft against Keith’s skin. 

Keith wants to scoff or dismiss it. Instead, he just huffs a breath and looks down, touching Shiro’s throat. His husband tilts his head back for him, exposing the full curve of his neck, the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows. 

Keith touches his clavicle, fingertips fitting perfectly in the small dip of the bone. He can feel Shiro’s pulse, rapid-fire despite the calmness between them. Even like this, Keith can see Shiro’s desire— how he always looks at Keith. Shiro can be so quiet with his desire that the force of it can still take Keith by surprise, to look into his dark eyes and see only love. 

Keith doesn’t drift. Not really. The longer they stay like that, just quiet and breathing together, the more Keith feels like he’s floating. It’s almost like the morning meditations he’ll do with Shiro sometimes, the way they count their breaths and clear their minds, the way Keith can’t go completely empty because he’s infinitely aware of Shiro sitting there beside him. 

But it feels like mindfulness all the same. Keith is present, alive and breathing, and he’s in Shiro’s arms. He doesn’t interrupt the quiet. He doesn’t move. He just focuses on the slow, almost methodical way Shiro touches him. Keith closes his eyes and just lets himself feel. 

When he opens his eyes again, the lighting in the room has changed. It’s still night-cycle, but it’s dimmer than he remembers. He breathes in and shifts his hips. Shiro is still fit snug inside him, thick and hard, and he hears and feels Shiro’s sharp intake of breath at the sudden movement.

“Hey, Keith,” Shiro whispers, his voice so quiet it’s nearly breath alone. “You back with me?”

“I never left.”

Shiro chuckles them, deep and rumbly. It makes Keith’s cock twitch, cosmically aware of the way Shiro sits inside him still. 

“You fell asleep for a moment there,” Shiro says. “Should I be insulted?” 

“I’ve been awake for thirty varga,” Keith says. “It’s not you. Never you.” 

Shiro kisses the tip of his nose. “You want to sleep?” 

Keith shakes his head. The exhaustion is a familiar friend at this point, nearly suffocating sometimes. Maybe he drifted more than he thought. 

In answer, Keith lifts his hips enough for Shiro’s cock to slowly slide out of him. They both groan at it and Keith rolls back down, sinking onto Shiro again. It’s the slowest pace he can remember setting in a long time and he loves the luxurious drag of it. He squeezes around Shiro’s cock just to watch his eyes go dark and he smiles. He touches Shiro’s shoulders, holding him as he moves. 

“Don’t move,” Keith murmurs and Shiro nods his head, biting back a little breath as he cups Keith’s hips. 

He lets Keith move as he wants. And Keith takes his time with it, lifting onto his knees and sinking back down again. The drag and friction are nearly too much, his body trembling from the feeling of it, his body split open around his husband’s cock. 

“Fuck,” Keith whimpers and his body feels so tired. He moves but it’s only the gentle support of Shiro’s hands on his hips that gives him the strength to move so methodically. 

Shiro looks sleepy, too, despite it all, like maybe he’d been drifting as Keith slept. Keith focuses on that— the dark promise of his eyes, the curve of his smile, the sigh of his breath. His shoulders are steady and solid beneath his touch, his heartbeat growing faster in his chest where they’re pressed together, his stomach quivering with barely held breath as Keith slides his cock against his abs. 

“Sometimes,” Keith whispers against Shiro’s lips, pressing a kiss to his smiling mouth, “I can’t believe you’re really mine.” 

“I’m yours, Keith,” Shiro says automatically, bumping his nose against his and then turning to press a kiss to his cheek, lips tracing over the scar cutting down to his jawline. His touch is reverential, worshipping Keith. “I love you.” 

Keith turns his head to kiss him again, just barely swallowing back his answering whimper. He shifts, rising onto his knees and cupping Shiro’s cheeks. It lifts him off his cock and they both make a sound at the distance that falls between them, but Keith just bows forward, lifting Shiro’s face to his and kissing him. He swears his own worshipful quiet into the kiss, mouthing out his husband’s name, pouring all the love blooming within him back into the one who ever made it possible for him to feel so loving. 

“Me too,” he murmurs when they part. He sinks back down, snug in Shiro’s lap, breathing out in a quiet sigh at the feeling of it, spreading open around him. 

Shiro squeezes his hips, hands warm and soft against his skin. His smile is almost sleepy when he looks at Keith, eyes unbearably soft. 

“You’re the beautiful one,” Keith says in a mumble and swallows Shiro’s mouth in a kiss before he can scoff at the compliment. When he draws back, Shiro’s smile is shy and his ears are red. Keith pets the hair from his face, feeling triumphant. “… And I missed you, too. I always do.” 

He strokes his fingers over Shiro’s face, moving gently in tiny little rocks of his hips. It’s barely any friction or movement at all, but it still feels good. Keith shudders a few times as he squirms enough for Shiro’s cock to press deeper inside him. It feels good, the way it always feels good to be with Shiro like this. 

“Could we stay like this?” Keith asks.

“Not sure I can last if you keep moving, baby,” Shiro says, his thumbs stroking the vee of Keith’s hips. “But— but yeah, whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you need, Keith.” 

Keith takes a steadying breath. “No— after.” 

“Oh,” Shiro says, his hands flexing. He laughs, the sound punched-out and desiring. “Fuck. Yeah, of course. Whatever you want, sweetheart.” 

Keith kisses him sloppily as he lifts his hips and thrusts them back down, grinding hard. He squeezes around Shiro’s cock, relentless and determined now. He has good practice with this, after all— he knows exactly what to do to get Shiro to come with a gasp of only his name. 

He sets a brutal pace, driving away the sleepiness with the purposeful rolls of his hips, grinding down against his cock and squeezing once he sinks to the base of him. Shiro’s legs tremble with the effort of keeping still, his chest heaving with his breath.

“You can move,” Keith says when he can tell he’s close.

Shiro doesn’t wait for additional permission. He pulls Keith up by his hips and thrusts up after him as he slams him back down, angling his hips to drive deeper inside Keith. It makes Keith arch with a moan, gripping tight.

They move like that, the same hurry and frenzy from earlier returning now that they’ve given each other permission for it. They fuck together, moving together to meet each other. Shiro shifts his hand between them, seizing around Keith’s cock. 

Keith lets out the softest chirp, something that’s almost a mewl, and he shudders against Shiro’s big palm. As Shiro strokes him in time to his thrusts, Keith feels his vision tunnel, his only focus on the pleasure of being in Shiro’s arms, of having him so close. 

When he comes across Shiro’s fingers, he trembles through it, squeezing around Shiro’s cock and milking him in deeper. He knows Shiro is close, can tell from the tremble of his body, the haphazard thrust of his hips, the pulse of his cock. Keith keeps moving, pushing past the glancing sensitivity that makes him want to recoil, and fucks down hard against Shiro. 

He kisses Shiro just before he comes, swallowing every perfect sound— the hitching, strangled gasp of Keith’s name, the graveled out groan that’s usually enough to get Keith hard all over again. Shiro so loves his stamina, after all. 

As soon as he feels the flood of warmth within him, though, Keith slows again— instead of the frenzied bouncing in Shiro’s lap, Keith pushes at Shiro’s chest until he goes lying flat against their bed. 

Keith shifts, unwilling to let Shiro slip out from inside him, and sinks down after him, pressing kiss after kiss across his chest— over his beating heart, across his collarbones, the little dip of his throat. He works his way up to Shiro’s panting mouth, smiling in a purring pleasure as he finally kisses him there, too. 

Shiro arches to meet him, cupping the back of his head and playing with his hair. 

“Perfect, baby,” Shiro sighs, the praise warm and glowing between them. He bites Keith’s smirking mouth, deepening the kiss with unhurried gentleness. “Beautiful baby.” 

Keith purrs in pleasure, relaxing against him. It feels good to lie sated against him, to feel the cock inside him. He shifts back, making sure Shiro makes no move to pull out or slip out once he goes soft. 

It feels good, like a connection point that won’t fade. He wonders how long they can lie like this before they both get hard again. He wonders if they can always be so connected. 

Keith pulls back from the kiss enough to study Shiro’s face. His eyelashes fan out across the tops of his cheeks, flushed a perfect, pretty pink. Keith traces his fingertips over the familiar scar arcing over his nose, then works his way down to touch his kiss-soft lips. 

Shiro mumbles something. Keith hums in question, kissing one of his husband’s adorably big, pink ears. 

“What?” Keith asks when Shiro still doesn’t clarify. He pokes him in the side, smiling a bit when it makes Shiro squirm, his chest heaving with a huff of laughter.

“I said… ‘happy anniversary,’” Shiro says, blinking his eyes open to smile at Keith. There’s something vaguely smug in his expression.

Keith sits up just a little. “It’s not our anniversary.” 

“Yes, it is,” Shiro says. He drags his fingers through Keith’s hair, tucking it back behind his ear. 

“I never would have accepted a mission if it fell on an important date like that,” Keith says with a huff. He needs to take fewer away-missions with each passing decaphoeb, but Keith still makes a point to schedule things when he can so they aren’t spending birthdays or anniversaries away from each other. 

“Time dilation, sweetheart,” Shiro says, tucking one arm behind his head. It stretches him out so decadently beneath Keith, like he’s setting himself up as a feast for Keith’s eyes. And it’s such a sight, too. 

Keith pinches one of Shiro’s nipples. “It is not.” 

“Check the PADD,” Shiro says, squirming from the pinch. 

Keith picks up the PADD from their bedside table. He feels a drop of dread in his gut as he powers it on. He could have sworn they still had some quintants before their wedding anniversary. He’d planned something appropriately absurd and romantic that would make Shiro cry, because he always loves the gifts Keith gives him. 

The PADD powers on at 00:58— flashing the date of their anniversary. 

“Oh no,” Keith says with dismay. He looks up at Shiro, ready to apologize. “I—”

Shiro cups the back of his head and drags him down, kissing him with a filthy sort of care. It leaves Keith trembling in the wake of it, breathless like he’s just come again. 

“I made us dinner,” Shiro says with a hum. “It’s in the fridge, once you’ve rested.”

“I can’t believe I—” 

Shiro kisses him again. They both have the bad habit of doing that to quiet the worry the other might feel. It works in that it makes Keith’s shoulders relax a little. He knows Shiro would never be angry about it, but it’s a disappointment Keith feels inside his gut. 

“I know you’re good for it, baby,” Shiro says when they part again. “Time warping’s no joke.” 

Keith hangs his head, sighing. 

“Technically, you did come back the day before our anniversary,” Shiro says. “There’s still plenty of time.”

Keith sighs. He kisses Shiro again, his own quiet apology. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Keith vows. Shiro bundles up Keith’s hair in his hands, making a sloppy bun behind his head.

“You know I love the welcome home sex.” Shiro grins, even as Keith slaps his hand over his chest. “Really! Best gift you could give me— seeing you back safe and sound and in my arms.” 

Keith blushes, ducking down to hide his face against Shiro’s neck. He squirms his hips, delighting in the perfect weight of Shiro’s cock inside him. 

“Please,” Keith grumbles.

Shiro kisses his temple. “I mean… if you want to marathon sex until morning…” 

Keith snorts. “Insatiable.”

“Maybe,” Shiro says. They both know it’s Keith who’s the insatiable one between them. His stamina speaks for itself. Shiro goes back to petting Keith’s hair, tangling it up in a loose, untied braid that will come undone the second he lets go. 

Keith looks up at Shiro, studying his perfect smile, his soft eyes. Keith’s never known a man kinder, not in all the universe. He’s never known anyone to be so good, so kind, and his entirely. He’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to it, but truthfully, Keith doesn’t want to be used to it. He wants to always feel like he’s drowning in the feeling of Shiro.

He cups Shiro’s cheek, smiling softer when Shiro leans into the touch, his eyes falling shut. He looks content like that, like there really is nothing he’d rather do than be here with Keith. It makes Keith’s heart soar to know that’s the truth of it. 

“Happy anniversary,” Keith says and shifts closer to kiss him again— closer still, always nearer. He doesn’t want to be parted from Shiro and it leaves Keith’s heart squeezing in his chest to know that he is, always, welcomed here with Shiro. That Shiro never wants to be parted from him, either. 

He inches closer to Shiro, sinking against him. He kisses Shiro until he loses the sensation of separation, until it feels like he and Shiro are truly just one.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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